Walking Past
by HeadGirl07
Summary: In which Ron has a battle in his head. Similar to Harry thinking to himself about Ginny in book 6.
1. Him Walking Past

He was walking past the room when he stopped. He saw her, brushing her wet, bushy mane of hair, but that's not what stopped him. Hermione, her back towards him, was sitting on a chair wearing a yellow towel, still fresh from the shower. She was beautiful, perfect in his eyes, smiling without a care in the world. Ron continued to stare at her from the crack in the door. His thoughts began whirring inside his head, coming of their own accord. An argument began.

_I should really get a move on. Someone's going to yell at me sooner or later… Nah, stay a little longer._

_What if mum walks by? Or Ginny? She'd have a laugh._

_How many times do you get to see Hermione in a towel? Why are you in Gryffindor anyway? _

_Hey, I'm still alive aren't I?_

_Staring at that girl you can't ask out._

_She's dating Viktor!_

_How do you know? Have you asked her? She might have dumped him, the grumpy git. She might not like him anymore…She might not have liked him to begin with._

_Right, whatever. She could like someone else._

_Why don't you ask her?_

_Yeah, sure, I'll ask her. I'll just walk up to her right now while she's in her towel, "Hey Hermione, who do you like? I've been staring at you from behind the door by the way, don't mind that."_

_She knows you're stupid anyway. It's not like you have to prove anything._

_Shut up!_

_Shut yourself up! This is _your _argument in _your _head!_

_She probably likes someone else… like Harry. I couldn't date her anyways. It would just be too weird. I don't want to lose her friendship._

_You almost never had a friendship to begin with! Besides, you have to risk something to gain something, right? Why are you worrying about Harry anyway? He's your friend so ---_

_Exactly! He's my friend! That makes it even more awkward. We're all friends!_

_If he's really your friend he'll be okay with it, won't he?_

_But Hermione ---_

_What about her? She doesn't like Harry._

_How do you know? She could have been hiding it this whole time! You know the mysterious ways of females…_

_She doesn't like Harry!_

_How do you know?!_

_How do you know unless you ask her!?!_

_She could! Harry might…_

_Might what?_

_He might…_

_He doesn't like her back. He probably would have told you; you're his best mate! Besides, he's braver than you, probably would have asked her out by now---_

_Now there's no need to go that far! You trying to say I don't have the guts to ask her out?_

_You're still watching her, aren't you? _There was a sudden halt.

_How long have I been standing here? Has anyone seen me? _He continued to watch. She was still brushing her wet hair using slow strokes of her brush, no rush. The water came off in small droplets with each run. Her smile was still in place, eyes bright; she looked happy. _Does she enjoy herself this much when she gets out of the shower? _Ron thought. _I mean, I like taking showers too but… I wonder why she's smiling. Did something happen? I hope I didn't miss anything. _He noticed her towel was starting to slip when his mother called.

"Ron! Downstairs NOW!" Mrs. Weasley yelled.

_Great, what have I done? _With a last glance at Hermione, seeing her adjust her towel and wishing he could stay, Ron turned to leave and hurried down the stairs to the kitchen before she could shout at him again.

Hermione was still smiling when he left. Still blissfully brushing her hair, she was very glad she decided to sit in front of the mirror that day…


	2. Her Watching

Hermione had gotten out of the shower, clean and refreshed. _Now where did I put that hairbrush? _She thought to herself. After finding it on a shelf, she looked for a place to brush her hair. _On the bed? The rocking chair? In front of the mirror? _As Hermione decided on sitting in front of the mirror, she frowned at the tangles in her hair. She had forgotten to get shampoo recently so her hair ended up being more tangled than normal, forcing her to brush slowly.

Thinking about what the day might hold in store, she found herself smiling for no apparent reason. Maybe it was just going to be a nice day. As she brushed, a pair of eyes became apparent that they were staring at her in the mirror. Managing not to show surprise, and some horror, she could see that behind the door were two blue gems that were clearly aimed at her, towel and all.

_What the---? Which one?_ Realizing that those same eyes could notice her staring back, Hermione tried to look as if she weren't paying attention. She began her analysis. _He's tall and lanky so not the twins or Charlie… No horn-rimmed glasses or ponytail… That only leaves one… Ron. _This took a bit to sink in. _Ronald Weasley is staring at _ME _in a _TOWEL!!!

She wanted to freak out, desperately. She wanted to jump out of the chair and yell, "Why in the world are you staring at me?!?!" She wanted to collapse, faint from astonishment, sing for joy, hide from embarrassment, pump her fist in triumph, or vigorously shake him, asking him why he was such an idiot. In other words, she had no idea how to react, which can be a good thing when you don't want the other person to notice you. She did nothing.

Hermione kept brushing, he kept staring, and she kept looking back; it was working out pretty well, this symbiotic relationship. His stare unnerved her a bit. This _was _the kind of look she wanted from him but, as clever as she was, she could not figure out for sure whether it was her or the fact that she had nothing but a towel on that kept his interest. Feeling giddy, she felt the urge to flirt back, show him she liked the attention, but of course that wasn't her style. So many things could go wrong. She did _not _want anything to go wrong between them.

Hermione figured that most of the tangles were out by now. Nonetheless, she continued to brush her hair, not wanting to get up and do something else. As time went on, she had become oblivious to the fact that she hadn't dressed yet. She looked at those eyes again; he was still staring but she could tell that his mind was elsewhere. _What I would give to know what he's thinking…_ Hermione saw his eyes blink conspicuously for a moment, as if snapping out of his dream world, and flick them up and down from her head, down her torso, to her feet, and back up again. Her eyes widened. _He's checking me out! _She felt a warmth spread throughout her body, as if she had been sitting in front of the fireplace, coming in from a snowy blizzard.

She peeked at the clock. It had been twenty-five minutes. It felt like hours. Twenty-five minutes of this strange exchange in which both appeared to enjoy. She felt that it was almost time to break it. She _was _still without proper clothing on and he _did _probably have better things to do. How would she intervene? Thinking of a way to confront him, she heard Mrs. Weasley call, to her relief. Her towel was slipping and she only just noticed.

Ron dashed away, but not without her noticing his guilty look flit across his face. _I guess he wanted to stay… _Hermione continued to smile with a buoyant heart. _After that, this has GOT to be a good day._


End file.
